Befallen
by gummibar
Summary: With the return of XANA, stress once again piles on Jeremie and Aelita ends up spending most of her time with Odd. Both adolescents constantly fight with their own emotions, trying to figure themselves out. But their petty relationship issues end up distracting them from the bigger problem at hand, and that problem isn't XANA. JxA, OxA, LxJ, UxY. Set during Evolution.
1. Subtle Neglect

On the Tuesday morning of January 5th, Aelita woke up with a cough. A simple cough that did nothing but irritate her throat, but never had she really fallen ill before. So as she found herself speaking in a slightly raspy voice, she couldn't help but laugh, thinking that the flu had to catch up to her eventually. It was the season, and the weather outside was dry and cold. Kids rubbed their noses without washing their hands and coughed into the air without covering their mouths. If anything, she was surprised it hadn't come sooner. So she shrugged it off, and forced herself out of the warmth of her bed.

At seven thirty when her alarm had already been shut off and the sun had already risen, she looked towards her window and found herself still needing to turn on the light in her room. There were no shadows on her carpet and no blue in the sky; so it seemed that the weather for today matched that of the way she felt. She was not accustomed to being sick in any way, and wasn't sure how to handle a cough. It was a minor annoyance, at best, and probably not something worth missing class over. No, _definitely _not something worth missing class over. So she scrunched her stuffed little nose while pulling on her favorite pair of plum colored boots and scampered down the hall, visiting the same room that she did every other morning.

Jeremie was as awake as one would expect him to be, and more than likely hadn't even gone to sleep yet. His skin was as pale as the overcast sky outside and lines were spiraling under his sunken eyes. Such a look had become accustomed to him, and in fact suited him. She couldn't really picture him without that little hint of purple in the corner of his eyes and the red grooves in his forehead from sleeping on his keyboard. It was what made him, well, _him. _Part of it did make her sad, though. And it was strange to open his door, walk into his room and smile brightly while still being struck with an unnerving sting in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like that he never slept, didn't like that he never ate, didn't like that he was always stressed, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel the bite of guilt nagging at her head, telling her that it was her fault. That she was the reason for this.

And that, well, she certainly didn't like _that _either.

She opened her mouth to say good morning, but found the words catching in her throat and coughed into the nook of her elbow. He said it for her. For a brief moment she pondered the idea of him gathering onto her current state. Wondering and asking if she were okay. He didn't, and she was actually glad—because it meant she didn't look sick. And she didn't want that. She didn't like attention… well, except for when she did. But it wasn't something she actively looked for, and she didn't need people harassing her on her well-being more than they usually did.

In an unusual amount of silence, they walked to breakfast together the same way they did every other morning. The only differences for today were that she had a nuisance of a cough, and his lips were pressed shut. Perhaps he had burned himself out again and didn't feel like talking. That wasn't unusual, and it would mean he would retreat to his dorm right after class and crash.

"Are you okay?" her voice cracked. He looked at her oddly.

"I'm fine, why?"

"You aren't talking."

He shrugged. What was that supposed to mean? Perhaps there were other things on his mind. She wondered if she could bother asking. Depending on the day, Jeremie was the kind of person who liked to be left alone when he was upset. Not to the extent that Ulrich did, though, where it would leave him alone with his thoughts for so long that he would end up lashing out at someone.

That someone was usually Aelita. So she _certainly _did not want to let it boil over to that degree.

"If something is wrong, you know you can tell me," she continued.

"Yeah, I know." And in return, he smiled, but she couldn't quite figure out whether or not it was a real smile. "And nothing is wrong."

If anything _was _wrong, that was the sign to drop it. So she did, and they continued their prance down the stairs in silence. The closer they got to the cafeteria, the quicker the silence diminished anyways. It was almost eight, and now the entire dormitory had emptied out and the halls had filled with the early morning chatter of students hurriedly scrambling to breakfast for Rosa's half-cooked eggs and flimsy bacon in a pool of grease.

At least the hot chocolate was good. Well, semi-good. It was a bit watery some days, but definitely better than the potato-y mush that Rosa called a hash brown. And the croissants, those were her favorite. They were buttery and flaky and literally melted in her mouth, and Aelita loved it even more when dipped into a good batch of the cafeteria's instant hot chocolate.

So when she sat down at the table and realized her sudden illness left her unable to even taste the subtle sweetness of the cocoa and the warmth of the pastry, well, she was miserable. She even emitted a small whine, before turning to her elbow and coughing. Again.

"What's wrong?"

Shaken slightly at the sound of his voice, she looked away from the jiggling pool of chocolate in front of her and her eyes met with not that of Jeremie's, but rather, Odd's. It was Odd who had caught onto the fact she was feeling under the weather, and although she was slightly flattered someone had noticed, at the same time she was disappointed. It only meant that she _did _look sick. And that Jeremie hadn't paid enough attention to notice. Not that it really mattered, at all.

"I can't taste my food."

"Oh, man! That's a real bummer."

Of course Odd, more than anyone, would sympathize with her on that matter. Her lips couldn't help but tic upwards into a smile. She went to add onto her statement, but again, found herself locked in a short fit of coughing. It wasn't even a harsh cough. Just, simply annoying.

"Are you sick?" Ulrich asked. That made two people who had taken note of her condition. And Jeremie still was not one of those people. She looked over at him, and noticed that he still looked as bummed as he had half an hour ago. He had barely touched his food—although that wasn't really unusual. His stomach was probably the size of a pea with as little as he ate, and she wondered if he could even feel hunger at this point.

"I just have a cough. It's nothing serious," she said.

"Maybe you should go to the infirmary?" Odd added.

"Why would I do that? It's just a little cough. Not worth missing any classes over."

"Well, don't let it get too bad."

Aelita smiled. Even while sick—although only _slightly _sick—her sparkling white grin managed to bring what the sun no longer could on this unusually dark day. She looked around the table, enjoying the moment with her group of friends that currently consisted of only Jeremie, Ulrich and Odd. Although Jeremie wasn't contributing much to their conversation and still, she wondered why, but remained too reluctant to ask. Yumi was never at breakfast. It only made sense, of course. She could enjoy a much better meal at her home, and why waste the extra sleep to get to school earlier than you need to? That was the same reason William was never at breakfast, either. Even though he was a boarder, he'd rather sleep in. Sometimes, Aelita would have, too, but she knew she wouldn't be able to make it through the day without _something _to hold her over.

Although, in all honestly, she wasn't feeling too peckish at the moment. In fact, she thought that maybe if she _were _to eat, she'd only become nauseous. The waking moments she spent made her slightly squeamish, and she realized that being on her feet was aggravating her sudden ailment. She coughed again.

"How are things?" Ulrich chimed in suddenly, his fork clinking against his now empty plate. "With Lyoko, I mean. Another mission to the Cortex coming up?"

"Most likely," Jeremie replied. Finally, someone had gotten him to say _something, _even if it had to be about Lyoko. "It seems every time we go there, I get a new video about its creation. So I say, why wait?"

"Why not go tonight?"

And with that, Aelita's stomach dropped slightly. There was one very, _very _hugereason on why not tonight. And as soon as Jeremie nodded his head in agreement, it was clear he didn't remember.

"Jeremie…" she spoke in a soft voice, one that didn't seem too harsh or demanding of his attention. He didn't appear to be in a very chipper mood, and she didn't want to bother him further.

"Hmm?" he looked over at her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

He gawked back at her. It was clear he had forgotten _entirely _that tonight was the night of the Subdigitals' concert. He had promised to go with her. Everyone else had something to do on this day, even William. And nobody loved the Subdigtials as much as _William_ loved the Subdigitals. She sighed.

"The Subdigitals concert…" she mumbled, through slightly gritted teeth.

"Oh. _Oh._"

"We can just go to the Cortex tomorrow, can't we?"

"But Aelita, you're the one that wants to go there more than anyone else." Now he was trying to turn it around on her. "Every time we go there, you find out more about your father. Don't you want that?"

"Yes. But I can get that _tomorrow. _You _promised, _Jeremie."

He sighed. For whatever reason, he was being a grouch today, and she was getting an overwhelming vibe that he was going to find every excuse in the book to weasel his way out of it. Aelita truthfully did not know why she was surprised. This was not rare of him. He wasn't much of a music geek, and she was stunned in the first place that he had agreed to attend the concert with her. Maybe it was out of pity, because nobody else had the time or desire, and he didn't want her going alone. At least that was nice. Right? Maybe not. Maybe just rude, if he was going to end up making excuses in the end.

"I already bought the tickets. With _my _money, you know."

"_Your _money," he nearly mocked. "With the financial aid that _I _hacked into for you."

Unnecessary. She grumbled under her breath and turned away from him. There was no sense arguing with him. He was to be left alone, and either he would come around, or he wouldn't. Clearly he was in a bad mood. She had to keep reminding herself that Jeremie was _always _under a _lot _of stress, and not to be too frustrated with him. But when his inability to handle _his_ own stress ended up being taken out on _her_, and got in the way of _her _plans that she had been looking forward to for _weeks_, it was hard _not_ to become frustrated. But, she had to keep her composure and so she merely sat in silence, arms folded and lips pouted.

"I'll go with you."

Aelita met eyes with Odd once more. "What?"

"I'll go to the concert with you. I said I couldn't originally because I had planned a date with Sam, but…" his gaze solemnly drifted to the side. "We all know what happened there."

"Really?" Her voice glimmered with hope.

"Yeah, why not? I love the Subdigitals. You and I can go to the concert so your ticket doesn't get wasted, and Jeremie can take the others to the Cortex. He can fill us in later when we get back. She doesn't need to be there, does she Jer?"

"Well, I suppose not."

"Great. So how does that sound, princess? It's a win-win!"

Aelita giggled. "That sounds great, Odd. Thank you."

"No problem."

Although Aelita was more than happy to take up Odd on his offer, part of her still wished that at some point throughout the day Jeremie would change his mind and offer once more to go with her. It wasn't that she minded going with Odd—not at all. She just wished Jeremie would follow through with his word more often. So for the entire day, she had three things nagging at her conscience. The fact she was now going to the concert with Odd rather than Jeremie, the fact that Jeremie was being a huge grump and wasn't saying why, and of course, that dumb, annoying cough. As the hands of the clock slowly ticked by during all of her agonizing classes, her cough did not get any better—nor did it get worse. It remained stagnant, occasionally scratching at the back of her throat and leaving her chest feeling hollow and full of dust.

Actually, make that _four _things nagging at her, because at the same time, Aelita also wanted to join the others in the Cortex. What if they did find out something big on her father? She would be dying to know, and she'd undoubtedly want to be there when they found it. She also wanted to have fun, though. And to not have to focus on Lyoko _all _of the time.

And that was where she and Jeremie constantly had their differences. When she wanted to run out and explore the world, he wanted to stay on the computer. Of course Lyoko and the battle against XANA—second battle, to be specific—mattered. It was crucial, she agreed, but she also wanted to take advantage of the small amount of free time she had. Jeremie didn't. And sometimes, it felt like he flat out ignored her. And everyone else, actually.

But Jeremie was also the only one who knew how to do the things he did. So while he was snapping at her like she was his own daughter, she had to remind herself continuously that he had his reasons for acting such a way. Even if they were slightly unjust.

Maybe with Laura in the group—well, "in" the group—things would get better. For Jeremie, at least. She cringed. Maybe not for _her _and Jeremie. Although, there _was _no "her and Jeremie." Sometimes she wondered if there ever would be. Especially with Laura around, and _especially _with Jeremie being…well… a jerk.

But that was another problem entirely, for another day.


	2. Two Tickets

The school day had ended nearly as quickly as it had begun, although perhaps not as quickly as Aelita had wanted. As the final bell rang throughout the entire campus, she found herself lost in the sea of students just as she had done so that morning on her way to breakfast. The worst part of school was not how long and boring the classes were, nor how tedious the homework was or how strict some of the instructors were, but merely how many times she yelped out as someone's foot rudely met with that of her own. Or how many times someone shoved past her and scraped her arm with the metal binds of a loose notebook, or how many times she were to be smacked in the face with someone's flailing messenger bag. Those were the things that really bothered her about school. There were too many people on this campus, and she did not like being a punching bag.

Today, though, the personal after-school beating was tolerable because all would be well once seven o clock rolled around and she were to meet Odd at his door to be escorted to the concert. That thought still irked her—the idea that her scrawny, feline-like friend had to swoop in and make up for his own friend's mistakes last minute. Nonetheless, though, she convinced herself that going to the show with Odd would be much more enjoyable than going with her blonde counterpart. It was probably an accurate assumption, anyways. He wasn't a very good dancer. Although, neither was Aelita. She was more accustomed to being _on _the stage, not in front of it. This would actually be the first concert Aelita would be able to go to and actually _watch_—to experience it first hand and upfront. The other performance she attended was the one she opened up for, and anything else she saw was only a glimpse from behind the curtain. The Subdigitals' had only been in her area once since then, and as usual XANA had made sure to interfere with her chances of going. And of course, there was another small tour in Cahors a few months back, but that was much too far away and she couldn't afford the train.

So this is exactly why this particular concert was so important to her, why it was so crucial that she attend. And of course, Jeremie didn't—and _couldn't_—understand that. But she shrugged it off and once again continued to convince herself that he had every reason in the world to not want to go with her. After all, he had more important things to be working on.

More important than hanging out with her.

Now she had upset herself.

"Watch where you're going!"

Lost in her train of thought, she had not even been paying attention to where her steps took her until she heard a set of unfriendly words, along with the force of her face smooshing against someone's chest.

"S—sorry," she mumbled, scrambling the books that had slipped out of her grasp and running off in a hurry to escape the embarrassment that was now burning in her cheeks. The unintentional drive into her classmate had shoved out another series of coughs from her, leaving her struggling to accomplish the task of running to her room while breathing. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she found herself leaning against the wall with her History book plummeting to the ground and her chest feeling rather tight. It wasn't that she couldn't breathe, because she wasn't wheezing or even coughing at this point. But her heart was racing and pounding inside her chest, to the point where she could hear the beat in her ears perfectly even amongst her heavy breathing. Did people always feel this way when they were sick? She'd seen her friends sick before and she wondered why it had never really caught onto her. After all, with a fake identity came fake medical records. She thought long and hard for a moment, wondering if she had ever even had a vaccine before. Well, either she was really sick, or just needed to try harder in P.E. With XANA around again, she was always missing class and it's no surprise she had fallen out of shape.

Once her pulse and breath had regulated she trotted down the hall to her door, where she would throw her books and her purse on her bed and stare aimlessly in front of the vanity, trying to decide what needed to be done. If anything, that is. Aelita did not understand why some girls would be so preoccupied and even devastated over there looks. It wasn't really something she thought about too frequently. She wasn't overly confident, but at the same time saw no need to change the way she was. She didn't even like wearing make-up. It made her eyes heavy and gave her trouble staying awake. Maybe tonight, though, a little liner would be appropriate.

More importantly, something about going to the concert with Odd instead of Jeremie made her feel nervous, as if she had to try harder to make herself look nice tonight. It gave her a weird, uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite figure out, a cross between excitement and nervousness. Jeremie did not care how she looked, and with that she found herself apathetic to the idea of walking around him in t-shirt and pair of socks. But with Odd, someone she never really had one-on-one time, a small part of her felt that it was mandatory she dress to impress. She wasn't really sure why, either. Perhaps the fact she was nowhere near as comfortable with Odd as she was Jeremie, but at the same time, knew better than to think one of her best friends would judge her physical appearance. Maybe this was part of being a girl and having weird hormones that made you want to do weird things, like force yourself to wear uncomfortable black goo on your eyelashes and shoes that gave you blisters. Things that made Sissi act the way she did around Ulrich. Aelita shuddered. She did not want to be like Sissi.

And all the while, with her eyes aimlessly locked on the jam-packed closet in front of her that for some reason still had nothing she felt like wearing, she ridiculed herself for overthinking this so much. It's just a concert, with her best friend. It's not like they had never hung out before. So why did it matter how she looked or acted around him? Odd was a goofball, and whenever they were together was Aelita's chance to as well be a goofball. So why was she having trouble with the thought of acting herself?

She coughed into her elbow again. The sickness. That was definitely it, her dumb little flu. Or cold, whatever it was. It _had _to be messing with her head. She took a deep breath and with closed eyes grabbed the first piece of fabric that her fingers met with inside the closet, yanking it off of its hanger and tossing it onto the bed. She didn't even want to look at it. She would just throw it on and walk out the door, refusing to let herself stand in a mirror where she'd spend more time changing her clothing. And after an extra thirty minutes spent trying to keep her fluff ball of a head of hair from sticking up in all directions, there was a knock on her door and she had realized she'd spent nearly two hours on clothing and hair. And when she had first gotten back from class, her only intention was to wear the subtlest bit of makeup. Funny how things work out.

She glanced at her reflection from the corner of her eyes, brushing down her skirt that she hoped wasn't too poofy and pulling up her shirt that she hoped wasn't cut too low.

"Hey, Aelita?" The sound of Odd's voice muffled against her door, and she realized there was no extra time to be wasted with something as trivial as physical appearance. She spritzed on the first perfume bottle she saw on her desk, grabbed her tickets, and opened the door to greet the boy with a smile. And to her surprise, he had changed as well. Nothing fancy, but the fact he had simply changed his outfit gave her comfort in the way she had been thinking all afternoon. Now she knew she wasn't alone in the strange ideal that she wanted to dress a bit nicer for tonight, and at the same time, wondered if she had dumped her own illness onto Odd. Was she contagious? Maybe she shouldn't have gone to class today. She rested her hand against her forehead, looking for any sign of a fever to see if that could be the reason for the fact her thoughts were _all _over the place today. She felt awfully flustered. Maybe she was a little warm. "Are you okay?" He asked her.

"What?" she drew her hand away from her flushed cheeks, snapping towards him with sudden surprise, as if something as simple as asking if she was alright absolutely stunned her. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine." She smiled.

"Great! Looking good, princess. Ready to go?"

Aelita gave a simple nod, with her heart skipping just one little beat at the compliment. She nearly sighed with relief, thankful she had succeeded in her sudden urge to dress herself up. On her way down the hall before passing the door with that familiar blue sign and that familiar 8-bit name sprawled onto it, she wondered if it wouldn't hurt to knock—to talk to him and see if he were feeling less grumpy than this morning, to at least say goodbye. But she also felt it wasn't worth it, because if he were still in a bitter mood he would probably only do something to sour her own mood, and she didn't need that before the show. So instead of brushing her knuckles against the hardwood door and calling his name, she kept her mouth shut and her eyes locked on the path before her. She would deal with cranky Jeremie once she had her fun for the night. Besides, she would need to call him anyway to check on the mission in the Cortex.

And so they headed straight to the concert, because the earlier they got there the better. Aelita wasn't mistaken when she assumed that the line would be agonizingly long, and her thoughts had proven to be true by the time they showed up to the concert hall and the line was spiraling from the front doors down to the street. This was the first part of the night—the first of many—that made her decide she was glad she had gone with Odd and not Jeremie. Throughout the hour and half wait in the line they talked non-stop, to the point where her mouth was dry and her cough was agitated simply from how much she had to say and how much she had been laughing. If Jeremie were here, she was sure she wouldn't have even been able to count on both hands _and _feet how many times he would've complained about how this was a waste of time. That he could've gotten so much work done in the period spent in the line alone. She was glad she didn't have to hear that. Even though he was her best friend and she adored him, the point of tonight was to enjoy herself.

And she frowned when she realized she never really had the time to enjoy herself around him. Sometimes she understood it was because of XANA's return, but other times, it felt like he didn't want to make time for her. Nonetheless, she forced herself to understand—and shoved the negativity in the back of her mind. She would dwell on it later, when she didn't have a concert to attend.

Finally, after what seemed liked hours—although to be exact, it only took them one hour and twenty six minutes, they were standing before the front doors and handing their tickets to the usher. Her heart was racing and she was already growing light headed from sheer excitement. And the grin on Odd's face only made her more ecstatic—because she was able to enjoy this show with someone else who enjoyed it, too. She didn't need to worry about the guilt of making Jeremie go with her when he would have rather been working on something Cortex related.

Once she walked through the doors, she refused to let herself think of Lyoko and Jeremie any longer. For the rest of the night, the only thing on her mind was the fluttering in her heart that synced up with the bass of the music and how much of a good dancer Odd turned out to be.


	3. Rain and Laughter

By the end of the night, Aelita was exhausted. From all of the cheering and screaming the girl had nearly lost her voice, and Odd's face was practically frozen stiff from all of the smiling and laughing. It had been a wonderful night, and Aelita no longer regretted having to go with Odd, nor did she regret Jeremie not being there. Everything had worked out just perfectly for her tastes. And, to finish off a night that she couldn't possibly see as more perfect, a peaceful walk on the now empty streets at quarter past twelve.

Her ears were still ringing from the show and she'd even gained a small headache. Her feet were aching and her heart was skipping beats, but every seemingly small inconvenience bothered her not even in the slightest. The world was dark save for the soft, yellow glow from every street lamp that lined the sidewalks. With no cars and no bikers, she kicked off the shoes that were giving her blisters on her heels and strolled into the middle of the street. Confused only at first, Odd joined her side in laughter. The cold, rugged asphalt felt nice against her burning feet—almost like a massage with every step. Everything was quiet and calm. A nice change from the overbearing sounds of the auditorium they had just left. Heavy crowds, booming bass and deafening chatter and screams amongst every peer there, all of it had made the experience more enjoyable…but this was nice, too. Even with the frigid, January air, Aelita found herself shivering not even once. Although perhaps walking around at night, with ice crystals in the air, would prove to be bad for her flu.

And even amongst the silence came more sounds, with Aelita's ears keying into each little tic. The gentle patter of her feet and his walking side-by-side against the barren ground, the soft beeping from a near-by walk light as it changed from 'go' to 'stop,' the whoosh of a single car driving by only a few blocks away. Little things like this made Aelita love the night more than the daylight. And, well, around Jeremie, you never saw either.

But with Odd, she'd experienced everything she loved in one night alone. Her favorite band, her favorite senses and of course, delightful company with someone just like her. In certain ways, at least. Truthfully speaking they were so different in many, many ways…but at that moment in time, walking down an empty street underneath traffic lights and on the wrong side of the road, she couldn't exactly figure out what those differences were.

But the ones between her and Jeremie… they were nagging at her.

_Jeremie. Oh, no!_

In that moment, Aelita had realized that amongst all of the fun she had been having she hadn't remembered to call Jeremie, to check up on the mission and to see if he'd found anything in the Cortex. It had to be late—_awfully _late, Aelita recognized, when she noted the moon's position in the sky and the perfect, dark shade of blue that could almost fade entirely into black. It was the way the sky looked when she'd wake in the middle of the night from a nightmare, or whatever, and simply stand before her window and stare at the sky. And, well, that was usually roughly around one or two in the morning.

Stopping in her tracks, Odd could see the worry in her face and comprehend that it had something to do with Jeremie. After all, he was a worry wart. If she didn't call, she didn't hear the end of it. You'd think he could recognize that tonight, she'd be busy because of a concert—a concert _he _was supposed to go to, but perhaps not. He was also really forgetful.

And then Aelita whined as she pulled her phone out of her pocket, seeing the battery dead. She looked up at Odd with a pout, and he would have gladly let her call from his own cell—had it not also been dead.

So the two of them were left in the middle of the street, around what was now quarter til one, with two useless phones. Odd shrugged, not knowing what else to tell her. And Aelita—although she should be eager and anxious about what they could have found in the Cortex, shrugged along with him and smiled. Perhaps it wasn't that big of a deal, after all. Who knows? Maybe they hadn't found anything. Maybe the mission was a flop—that wasn't unusual either. Jeremie's great ideas had been backfiring as of late, the poor boy. Even with Laura's help.

Aelita winced at the thought of that skinny little blonde, who acted like she was on top of the world. Maybe that was the cause of all of the problems, constantly putting so much pressure on Jeremie and making him feel inferior, like a failure.

It made Aelita angry.

And, once again, she had let her thoughts wander so far away from the case at hand and Odd couldn't help but notice the suddenly solemn look on her face.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" Her ears nearly twitching towards the sound of his voice, she perked up and glanced over towards him. "Nothing," she smiled. "Just thinking."

"About?"

She shrugged.

"Are you nervous about what may have happened at the Cortex?"

"Actually…no." And she wasn't. Which, to even her, was surprising. She actually didn't really care. Usually eager and impatient, but instead tonight, simply too mellowed out to care. She was okay with the idea of not finding out until tomorrow. And that was strange. So, just as she had been doing for the entire day, she blamed it on the illness. Except she hadn't found herself really coughing since before the concert. It was just as surprising to Odd, as well, who raised her eyebrows at her in slight shock. He'd expect her, if anything, to be concerned about her parents. And he was relieved she wasn't—because, well, how would he handle that situation? Jeremie was the one who dealt with that.

His lips curved into a smile. "Good," he added. And Aelita smiled back. The walk continued, and so did the silence. Maybe every now and then one of them would mention something about the concert, the music, or the mosh pit or the guy who stepped on Odd's toe at least three times, with light-hearted chuckles sprinkled over their words, but that was all. And that was more than enough. Especially considering both of them hardly had voices, and their faces already hurt enough from the bright smiles that had been frozen on their mouths for most of the night. She'd close her eyes for brief moments, long enough to absorb the atmosphere around her, but short enough so that she didn't run into a pole or trip over a curb. Everything about the night was so much more tranquil and enjoyable. If it were up to her, she'd walk around at night any chance she got.

Jeremie would never have that, though. So overprotective.

Aelita titled her head towards the sky and inhaled deeply, a gentle gust of icy wind biting at her nose. But she didn't mind, she could only grin at the feeling. And then suddenly, a gentle, wet plink against the nip of her nose. She opened her eyes and blinked.

"Hm?" she pondered, with Odd glancing over to her. Another trickle, against her arm with a little drop running down the side. She raised her arm before her face, running her fingers against the spot where the single drop had so eagerly plopped against her skin. Another drop, on the top of her head this time.

Rain.

With as cold as it was, apparently it was not quite cold enough for snow. She held out her hand, feeling them come down more consistently with each passing second. And with each added drop, the smile on her face grew. Rain and night time. Two of her most favorite things, shared with someone who could enjoy it just as much as her. She looked over at him and beamed, and he returned the same excited look she had on her face. Although maybe Odd didn't exactly _love _the rain, not like she did. It washed the gel straight out of his hair.

But since she was having so much fun, he couldn't possibly worry about his _hair,_ of all things at this moment. Without hesitation, Aelita skipped down the cobblestone street that had now been riddled with water and little puddles collecting in the corners against the sidewalks. Her feet were still bare, and the water was freezing, but never had she cared any less. She purposely splashed in puddles and twirled around and all the while Odd was chasing after her. They both filled the hush of the night with the echoes of their laughter.

Harder the rain fell, and harder they both laughed and danced around each other. Odd grew dizzy and stumbled, and Lita teased him. And for the entire night that they were chasing each other in the street, not a single car drove down that road. It was one of the busiest roads, too. Maybe it was fate. That Aelita would get two of her favorite things about Earth in the same night, a night that also happened to be the day of her favorite band finally came back into town. Fate that she was to go with Odd rather than Jeremie, and fate that all of the cars, for some reason, avoided the street that she had so claimed as her own for the evening. After all, everything was coming together so nicely.

But her smile quickly faded when the peace in the air was forced away by a roll of thunder and a crack of light scattering across the now overcast sky. She couldn't even see the moon anymore, and everything was black instead of that nice, navy blue that she had grown to love. And perhaps there was more than one reason she liked the color blue so much. Regardless of all the things she _did_ love, though, now she was facing one thing that she very much did _not _love.

Thunderstorms.

Rain? Absolutely. Rain was beautiful—Aelita saw it as something that cleansed the Earth, something that was refreshing. But the startling, harsh sounds and bright flashes that sometimes followed were not things she enjoyed as much. She stared up at the sky, her lips puckering into a frown.

"Hey," Odd said, running up to her and catching his breath, whilst wondering why it was she had suddenly stopped. "Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," she answered, albeit so quietly that her voice nearly became lost into the wind and the splashing of the rain against the stone. "We should probably head back now."

He grinned at her. "You don't like thunderstorms, do you?"

"Ah…not really."

"Alright. Let's get you home."

With that classic, silly grin still on his face, he let his arm fall around her and shook her shoulder gently before guiding her down the streets. Their feet collided with the thick puddles that rapidly brewed onto the ground, and suddenly Aelita was not so fond of the fact it was raining. With each crash of thunder she emitted a small yelp, something that Odd couldn't help but giggle at and tug her closer to him. And when her teeth started chattering and shivers started racking throughout her small little frame, he toyed with the idea of throwing his jacket around her—although it was already soaked, and may have only made things worse. Each passing minute, the storm grew stronger and they grew more nervous—because, in all honesty, electricity made them both think of XANA. And now she wondered; what if he was behind this? Pace picked up and strides grew longer. Soon enough, she had broken free of his grip around her back and sprinted down the road. He took no hesitation to follow after her, of course. Their feet crashed against the water coating the ground, with droplets splattering onto the sidewalks. Neither of them thought about how cold it was or how wet they were. Aelita hadn't noticed her cough was speedily coming back, and Odd didn't care that his hair was stringy and dangling in his face. Once she recognized the tip of the familiar building, which she never thought she'd be so happy to see, she started dashing faster than Ulrich could on Lyoko. Even Odd could barely keep up—in fact, he was laughing.

"Hey, wait up!" he cried, gasping in between words. Aelita's heart was racing; her lungs were spasming as they begged for the air she couldn't get while scurrying with such haste. When she finally burst through the front doors of the dormitory, her feet skidded to a halt and she nearly toppled forward and slid onto the ground, but found a wall to press her hands against and save her balance. She was panting heavily—wheezing, even. Maybe it was her cold, maybe it was the fact she had been missing too much gym, or maybe it was the fact she had run so fast for such a great distance. Maybe it was all of the above. But Aelita had never felt so weak, so out of breathe before. She didn't like the feeling. It scared her, even. A little more than the thunder that was shaking the whole building.

Seconds after, Odd shot through the doors as well, approaching Aelita with caution. He couldn't tell—was she having a panic attack from the storm? Or was it from the running? Maybe both. The night was full of a lot of maybes.

"Come on," he whispered. "You should hurry back to your room."

She nodded, raising her head towards him and forcing a weak smile before coughing. But her breathe was regaining it's place inside of her, although the only sound she could hear now was the thrashing of her heart inside her chest. Sleep _did _sound wonderful.

They made their way up the stairs slowly. One, because neither of them simply had the energy to move much faster, and two, the old stairs were at risk of creaking in the middle of the night. And if Jim caught them out at this hour, they would both be done for. The girl's floor was one below the boy's, and when Odd followed her into the corridor rather than continuing his march up the rest of the stairs, she looked at him with surprise.

"What?" he said, quietly so that no one would hear. "Isn't it polite to escort a lady back to her room?"

The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile, and he swooped in front of her to open the door and allow her to lead the way. At the end of the hallway, though, where Aelita's room lie, cried out a familiar voice that shook them both. Although, really, _neither _of them should have been surprised.

"Aelita!" Jeremie, overwhelmed with exasperation, sprang up from hard floor that he had taken up for hours and hastily walked towards the pair. He seemed angry, flustered, and relieved all at once. The classic way of Jeremie portraying his emotions. "There you are." Aelita stood and waited for her lecture. For the 'you didn't call, I was worried, blah blah blah.' But to her astonishment, such a lecture failed to proceed. He only looked at her with concern glazed over his tired eyes.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was weak, but it was a mixture of not having the energy or the care to speak any louder. She defended herself immediately, making sure he couldn't get to the topic first. "My phone is dead."

He sighed, and Odd raised an eyebrow at him. "How long have you been sitting there, Einstein?"

"A while. I had no idea when you'd be back, and once it started storming I got really nervous. Look at you," he added. "You're soaked."

"I know."

Another sigh. And with that, Odd got the invitation to head back to his own dorm. "I should probably let you two be. I'll see you later, Princess," he said with a wave and a smile. "I had fun!"

Aelita smirked back at him just before he turned to head back down the hall; with every step he took making a sloshing sound in his shoes. But back to Jeremie her attention went, and her little smile faded into a firmly pressed line. There was an unusual amount of tension, something that made Aelita more uneasy along with the rumbling across the roof. That, and silence. Silence that couldn't be filled, even with the crackle in the night sky and the sloshing of Odd's shoes that were already down the staircase.

"Are you mad at me?" she whispered, with her arms wrapped tightly around her body. She was now realizing just how cold she really was. Cold, wet and uncomfortable. Sleepy, anxious, scared, even.

And, for the third time in the past five minutes, Jeremie sighed. "No. Only myself."

Aelita quirked her eyebrows. "Hm?"

Jeremie rested his hand on her shoulder, perhaps for comfort, but immediately drew it away with shock on his face at how sodden her clothes were with ice cold water. There would be time to talk later. "You should really change into something dry," he gestured. And, silently, Aelita nodded and mouthed her agreement. "I'll come get you for breakfast tomorrow."

She closed the door without even a friendly smile, or a simple good night.


	4. Staying in Bed

When Aelita's alarm went off for school the next morning, she could barely open her eyes and let out a pitiful groan as she rolled over and smacked the snooze button. Every time she tried to take in a breath, it would come back out as a painful cough. She was miserable. More so than she had been the day prior. And when her head started throbbing just from glancing at the sunlight coming from her window—and it wasn't even that sunny—she decided that _today, _it was bad enough for her to be able to miss class. If Jim or someone else popped into her dorm later in the afternoon thinking she was skipping, they could take her to the infirmary themselves, because she certainly didn't have the energy to walk either. She tried to clear her throat and whisper words to herself, testing to see if she even had a voice left, and to her surprise she did; but a rather weak one. It'd be an embarrassment for her to get called up to the board to solve a problem. All the more reason for her to stay in bed. Besides, from the looks of it, the little bit of sun that was barely shining behind the clouds told her that it would be just as cold and wet today as it was last night, and she wanted to stay inside, in her room, where it was warm and dry. She closed her eyes and coughed into her pillow.

After only falling asleep for perhaps a total of thirty seconds—or at least, what felt like thirty seconds, she was dragged over to the other side again when she realized she'd forgotten about her alarm and it started wailing into her ears. Irritated and exhausted, and also unable to open her eyes and focus on the clock itself, she fumbled around her night stand until she pulled open the drawer and shoved the clock inside. Right now she needed to sleep, and she'd do so for the entire day if she had to. She let out another groan and burrowed herself underneath her mountain of blankets, finding that she was still shivering.

But after another thirty seconds of sleeping, there was a knock at her door. She whined, hopefully loud enough for whoever it was to hear and invite themself in, because she sure as hell wasn't letting them in herself. That would require her to get out of bed, and for her bare feet to touch the cold ground.

"Aelita? Are you awake?"

Oh, right. She had forgotten that Jeremie planned on taking her down to breakfast this morning. Maybe it was partly because she ignored him—rude, maybe, but still justified in her own mind—and partly because she was so exhausted and cold and unnerved from the storm that she hadn't even heard him. Or processed the comment, rather. She moaned again, hoping this time he'd get the picture to just come on in, because she wouldn't be giving him a friendly hello. She remained buried underneath her comforter, hearing the sound of the door clicking open and the scuffing of his feet against the carpet.

"Hey, wake up," he whispered, pushing against her shoulder. "You're gonna be late."

She groaned again, before peeping her eyes above the covers and mumbling, "I'm not going anywhere." Her voice was quiet and hoarse.

"Still sick?"

She nodded and slipped back under the blanket. Jeremie chuckled, tugging it down to her torso. "You don't sound too good," he added, resting the back of his hand against her sweating forehead. "And you definitely don't feel too good."

"You're telling me."

He smirked a bit, retracting his hand and taking a seat on the edge of her bed. There was silence for a moment, and Aelita rolled over to face the wall.

"Listen, Aelita…"

She moaned again.

"I'm sorry...for bailing out on you like that. It was stupid. _I'm _stupid, and I'm sorry."

He couldn't see, but underneath her mountains of covers and the sweating hair that hung in her face she was smiling faintly. After all, she had known that he'd come around eventually. He always did. The real problem was making sure he didn't have anything to come around _for._ But he had apologized, and he was with her now, and that was what mattered. She wanted to say thank you, but found herself lacking the energy required to open her mouth and to speak.

Jeremie remained seated next to her for a moment, and as more footsteps started scuttling outside of her door and birds started to flutter around her window she realized that it was getting later in the morning, and he wasn't moving.

"_You're _going to be late," she said.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Why?" Aelita rolled back over, looking over at him curiously.

"Well you need someone to take care of you, don't you? You're pretty sick…"

"I'll be fine."

"Nah, I'm staying. Besides, I owe you after the lame move I pulled last night anyways."

"Fine," she grinned. Arguing with him was a chore sometimes. And at the same time, arguing with _her _was a chore.

The morning ticked by slowly. Aelita slipped in and out of consciousness in its entirety, but every time she fell asleep it was only for a few minutes before she was pulled back into reality from her horrible cough. The medicine Jeremie had snagged from the infirmary wasn't helping, the soup he'd brought from the cafeteria wasn't doing any soothing, and the nagging thoughts in her mind about what may or may not have happened in the Cortex last night weren't easing.

But if Jeremie had found anything of importance, then he would have told her by now—would he not?

Of course.

At the same time, though, with an act as pathetic as he had done last night, perhaps not.

She wanted to ask about the mission, but found her words catching in the nooks and crannies of her irritated throat, with only another cough emitting. Aelita had never really been sick before. She pondered for a long, hard moment—had she _ever _been sick at _all? _Even a slight fever, an itchy throat, dry skin, even? She couldn't remember a _single _time where her health had been any less than…well, perfect.

And nobody, no _one _thing, is perfect at all. So maybe this was fate, or whatever you'd want to call it, catching up to her and telling her that her shining moment was over, and it was time to feel some real pain. Everyone had always just told her she probably had a phenomenal immune system; that they envied her for her health. It made sense the more she thought about it, that it would hit her the hardest after hiding away from ailments for so long. The more she did think, though, the harder her temples pounded against her skull, and she was forced to whine and slither back underneath the covers where it was dark and warm. A little too warm, though. After only a few seconds she'd throw the blanket right off of her and turn to face Jeremie, and he'd only smile at wait for her to roll back over. It was clear she was miserable. Tomorrow, though, she'd surely feel better. Overworked herself, most likely. One day off wouldn't kill her.

Hopefully.

And Jeremie, truthfully, was on edge. He'd already pulled a douchey enough move to abandon her before her favorite concert, and now he basked in the fear that he'd do something to upset her even more just by being right next to her. He wasn't talking because he didn't want Aelita to respond—to aggravate her hoarse voice even more. But was that making her feel ignored, or lonely? He also didn't want to annoy her—was he annoying her, or was she glad to have him around? Had he checked the date on the ibuprofen from Yolanda's office? Maybe it was expired. Maybe he was only going to make her sicker.

For him, it was always hard to figure out whether or not he was making things better or making things worse. He never had the nerve to ask, to try and talk about it. So he'd sit there and silently battle with himself, hoping that he was doing the right things to make up for what he'd done last night. He was really such a loser some times.

"Your soup is cold," he commented, resting his fingers against the bowl he'd left on her night stand. She'd barely touched it. He couldn't really imagine her having an appetite, but with stone cold chicken broth she _really _couldn't have an appetite now.

"What happened last night?" she whispered against her pillow, her voice cracking slightly on the last word.

The blonde was thrown off guard a bit. That had _nothing_ to do with soup. "What?"

"In the Cortex, I mean," Aelita paused to clear her throat. "Did you find anything?"

All the boy did was shake his head. Nothing of importance, nothing that needed telling right this very moment. After all, the more he talked, the more she'd have to respond. And she certainly wasn't in the position to have a conversation. No, she needed to rest her voice—her entire body, at that, but her voice most undoubtedly, as it was rapidly fading away.

"Are you sure?" she squeaked, attempting to push the conversation farther than Jer planned to let it go. He responded with a small smirk in the corner of his lips, his finger pressing against her mouth in a gentle attempt to, well, shut her up.

"You should go back to sleep," he suggested, his voice a tender whisper. "We'll talk about it later, when you're feeling better."

He was right. If whatever he had, or hadn't found, wasn't of upmost importance, then it wouldn't be the end of the world if Aelita let her eyelids fall shut once more, only to drag her down into the abyss of slumber. Seeing her sleeping left Jeremie feeling more relaxed. With the way her chest slowly rose and fell, an occasional chirp from her breathing, something as simple as Aelita dozing off was enough to leave him feeling content. With the clouds in his mind brushed out of the way, he opened the laptop that he had brought with him—just in case—and started running through some code. Maybe he could upgrade the Skid's shields again, and if he did so, maybe _this _time a Ninja wouldn't latch onto it.

As quickly as it had begun, though, his Zen had vanished. A knock on the door brought his heart to a halt for a split-second, because if he were to be caught skipping class he'd be in hellfire. Aelita was asleep, he wasn't about to wake her just to tell her that someone was at the door. The only thing to do was answer it. He'd come up with some sort of believable, half-assed excuse if he needed to. That was one of his best skills, after all.

Upon seeing the face on the other side, though, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He took a split second to look back at Aelita, fast asleep, before slipping through the door and tugging it shut behind him.

"Laura," he greeted, with only half enthusiasm. His blonde counterpart smiled back at him, but he felt the strange sensation that it was a sarcastic smile.

"I heard that you went to the Cortex last night."

Jeremie rolled his eyes. How—_how _did she always find this shit out? They could seal everything away in a deadlocked safe and she'd still crack it somehow. "Yes, yes we did."

"Thanks for telling me."

"It slipped my mind."

Laura chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure of that. Jeremie, why are you all so cold to me? You've made it obvious that you need help in the lab; Aelita doesn't seem to be giving you what you need…"

"Laura."

"I'm serious, Jeremie. I've done nothing but help you!"

"Ha!" Jeremie burst out. "Because bringing your father to the factory was _really _helpful. Nearly spilling our secret, twice now, has been such a _fantastic _help. You're right, Laura, I'm _so _sorry."

Laura stared back at him, a slight glare even, and she folded her arms. Jeremie had realized quickly that shouting outside of Aelita's door when she was ill and trying to sleep was the last thing she needed, the last thing _any _of them needed, and he calmed himself down.

"Sorry," he added, more hushed this time.

"Did you find anything, at least?"

"Just that Tyron is an arrogant asshole."

"Hm, seems he's not the only one."

"Wait, what?"

She narrowed her eyes, and once again, Jeremie sighed.

"I promise that next time I will call you when we're going to the factory," he reassured. Or attempt to reassure, at least.

But Laura, arms still folded, continued to glower at him with her fingers tapping against her arm. Impatiently, skeptically, perhaps both at the same time.

"I _promise,_" he repeated.

Laura rolled her eyes at him and released her arms, wanting to smile but at the same time not wanting to give him the satisfaction that she actually believed him. "Right," she replied. "I'm off then. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

"I'm serious, Jeremie. _Call _me if you _need _anything."

"I _will_, Laura."


	5. Eavesdropping

**A/N: **Just wanted everyone to know I'm still alive! Joined a new fandom, lost my muse for my stories-but I'm forcing it back out, don't worry. I just wanted to go ahead and clarify, that with the hiatus and no weekly running episodes to mess with my timeline, this story is set Post Episode 19 as of right now and will progress it's own way from then on. So, if by any chance this story is still running by the time the hiatus is up, it will _not _follow the episodes that air starting in September.

Happy reading!

* * *

For that entire night, Aelita tossed and turned relentlessly in her bed. Jeremie had long since left—she'd done the deed of making him feel as if he weren't allowed in her presence.

"I really just want to sleep," she had repeated to him over and over again until he finally got the hint: to get the hell out. And he understood, too—just looking at her even made _him _feel feverish. But Aelita's reasoning was a little deeper other than her twisting stomach and sweating neck. It was more a matter of she had heard Laura's voice outside of her own door, and it left her nothing less than furious. Perhaps for unjust reasoning, but Aelita couldn't help but just look at that blonde copy of Jeremie and feel like punching a wall. Even she couldn't explain it. She just…didn't like her. And that was okay, right? To just…not like someone. Just because. Maybe Aelita had grown tired of her innocent act of optimism, trying to be friendly to everyone and maturely handle every situation thrown at her. Maybe for once, she wanted the chance to be immature.

That was a silly thing to wish for, though. Aelita knew she was better than that, and Laura wasn't even the main reason she was still awake. Although most words beyond her walls had only been soft mumbles—save for Jeremie's slight loss of temper—she knew that he was hiding something about the Cortex, hiding something about Tyron. Her parents? Her racing heart fluttered at the thought of that. What had he said? Did he—did he know something about her mother? Her father? Of course he did. She had seen, for herself, her own mother behind the screen, inside _his _laboratory. It made her angry. Her fists clenched against her own sheets, and her heart skipped a beat, with her eyes widening at the jolt inside her chest.

And all of the sudden, she could practically hear her own heartbeat, and feel it pounding inside her throat. She sprang up in her bed, far too restless to lie still any longer. The more she thought about it, the faster her heart picked up. And the more her heart raced, the _more _she thought about it. It became an endless cycle. And unfortunately, a far too familiar one. And it always happened at night, when she'd let her mind wander too far or when she'd awoken from another nightmare. Her eyes locked on the door that she could barely make out through the darkness of her room. Suddenly, she wished it were morning. So that she could go to Jeremie and bring the subject of the mission back up, see if maybe he'd give her some answers. Preferably, _before_ she fell into a full-fledged anxiety attack.

Then logic kicked in, and she dug her hand into the drawer of her nightstand where she'd stuffed her alarm clock earlier that afternoon. The time was only half past midnight—of _course _Jeremie would still be awake. It only took one more peek at the door before she threw off her mountain of covers and tip toed her way into the hall. Those blankets were far too hot, anyways. And perhaps she would be able to sleep better with his company.

He was never one to turn her away, when she couldn't sleep. In fact, a little grin crept onto her face at the thought. She was set.

Although that assumption had come too quickly, because as she'd silently marched up to his door, she could hear the clickety clack of his typing—naturally, but along with that, he could hear voices. Two of them. Her eyes narrowed at the sounds and she didn't even bother to open the door, because Aelita already knew far too well what was going on. It was Laura, of course. And she was there. In his room. After midnight. Just him, and her. Alone.

They were just programming something, of course. Or maybe that was what they just wanted her to believe. What the hell were they working on that was so important he didn't need _her _help? Did he forget that at one point, _she_ was the _only_ one who could do anything? Maybe that was exactly it. She wasn't anymore. So why bother her? She wasn't needed.

This wasn't helping. She could already feel her throat starting to tighten, with her teeth digging into her lips as she leaned against the door and tried to pick up points of their conversation.

"No way." Jeremie's voice was easy to notice. But Laura—she always mumbled, for some reason.

"Why not?"

"Well, because I don't find it necessary."

"You don't think this is a disaster?"

"I think we'll find a way around it. We don't really _need _to get to him—do we?"

Aelita furrowed her brow, pressing her ears further against the hardwood of his door. What the _hell _were they talking about? Get to _who?_—It couldn't have been Tyron, could it?

No, that was absurd—why would Jeremie say that? They _did _have to get to him. If they didn't, then Aelita had no chance of ever seeing her mother again—if she even had one to begin with, that is. Still, she wasn't letting the only, microscopic glimmer of hope she had fade away that quickly.

"Maybe Graven will come back sometime soon. We could get to him that way," Jeremie continued.

"If he's cut us off, I'm not sure he'll be sending anyone back."

"I don't understand why he would, though. Isn't he curious as to why there are avatars snooping around his computer?"

"You know, my dad might—"

"Laura."

"Sorry, it's just—"

"I know. But you remember what happened last time."

That nearly set Aelita off. Not even the fact that apparently, Tyron had cut everyone off—whatever the hell that meant—but more so, was Laura just trying to get her _dad _to get involved? Oh, _no. _Oh, _hell _no. _That arrogant little bitch, _she shook her head at the door. Part of her wanted to burst in and scream—but what would that accomplish? The other part of her wanted to run off and sulk under the covers, but at the same time that wouldn't do any good either. So the third part of her decided to stay, and see what else she could dig up. But by the time she'd perched herself against the door and tuned back into their conversation, she immediately regretted it.

"You don't talk about your mother much."

"Neither do you."

There was a chuckle. A _chuckle_? He was _laughing _with her?

"Well, she isn't around much."

"Neither is mine."

With her fists clenched at her sides, she turned on her heel and started storming down the hall. Her heart was raging inside of her chest now, ready to pop _right _out. She could hear it pounding in her ears. She was enraged. Talking about tech stuff was _one _thing—because hell, Aelita couldn't deny Laura was smart. Too smart for her own good, but _still_. If they absolutely needed to program something together, then whatever. But—but talking about their _personal _lives? No. _No. _That wasn't acceptable.

It wasn't acceptable, and damn, it wasn't _fair _either. When did Jeremie ever bring up his mom around _anyone_? Aelita'd asked before, but she could never get an answer out! It was something he was so damned sensitive about, for whatever reason. But then the second Laura asks he dares to actually further the conversation? Her feet thudded heavily against the flooring of the dorms, and at that moment she couldn't have cared less if anyone were to hear—even Jim. It just—it confused her. Maybe she wasn't over to program with him. Maybe they were just…_hanging out. _Maybe Aelita bored him too much, or maybe he just didn't want to deal with her nightmares and etcetera anymore. Maybe she wasn't good enough.

Now, Aelita was confused with her_self. _Because when, all of the sudden, had she become so emotional? Perhaps it was the tightness in her chest, the fact she was still on the brink of an anxiety attack—a ticking time bomb inside her own mind. That would be enough to put her…well, out of character.

But the anxiety was well called for. She didn't have much time to collect her thoughts before she heard the click of a door, and a soft voice calling her name. She froze. All of the sudden, she cared _very _much if Jim found her. On the boys floor, alone, after midnight.

But that voice—it wasn't deep and authoritative like Jim's.

"Aelita?"

While trembling slightly, she slowly turned around to face the sound of whomever it was asking for her attention. She couldn't see in the absolute darkness—the hallway lights were turned off after twelve exactly to help prevent kids from snooping around—but she could tell, by the tone and texture of that soft-spoken voice, exactly who it was. And she was quite relieved, frankly, that it wasn't Jim _or _Jeremie.

"Hi, Odd," she replied—a bit shaky.

"Mind if I ask just what it is you're doing?" He whispered; a curious smile on his face. "Were you with Jeremie?"

"Er, no."

"Ah." The boy shrugged. "It kind of looked like you were coming from his room."

"I…" she trailed off, arms hugging her slender body. Suddenly it was quite cold. "Well, I was."

"But you just said you weren't with him?"

"I wasn't. But I was coming from his room."

Odd pursed his lips, blinking at the black silhouette still frozen in the center of the hallway. "Are you alright?" He asked—he could tell, by the faintness and hesitation of her voice, that something was agitating her. (Or perhaps it was just her trying to not awaken Jim). But, why _else _would she have gone to Jer's room so late at night? It was always after she had a nightmare. He frowned. "Did you have a bad dream or something?"

Aelita exhaled a quiet sigh—she was disappointed she had let herself hang around long enough to be approached by another figure. Exhausted as she was, she didn't have the energy or the desire to explain herself.

"Not quite," she let her arms fall to her sides. Perhaps short, blunt answers would make obvious to him her lack of aspiration in continuing any sort of socialization.

"I won't push you," Odd reassured. "But, if you want to talk about it…"

She stood in silence for a little bit, turning towards his direction. Aelita had suddenly come to realize that her heart rate had lessened greatly, and the muscles of her throat no longer felt as if they were clamping together. The simple conversation, as light and brief as it was, was still managing to keep her at ease. She shrugged, even though he wouldn't be able to see. Wouldn't it be foolish to turn down the offer of a friend? Aelita found that when her friends shut her away, it almost insulted her—made her feel as if she wasn't trying hard enough for them. That wasn't something she wanted Odd to feel.

"Here?" she mocked, a faint smile flashing on her face.

"You know you're more than welcome to come inside, Princess," Odd offered. "Ulrich isn't even here."

"Oh?" Aelita raised her eyebrows. "Where is he?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

She grinned at the comment, tip-toeing her way towards him. If Jeremie was hanging out with someone that _he_ didn't usually hang out with, then it was only fair for Aelita to do the same. And besides, she wasn't feeling well, and her nerves were creeping their way back up. There was absolutely _nothing _wrong with confiding in a friend who had so graciously offered his help. Odd glanced down both ends of the hallway, double checking for any suspicious figures, before slowly shutting the door behind him and the pink-haired woman.


	6. And So It Begins

Jeremie's first destination the following morning was Aelita's bedroom, for several reasons. Most importantly, he simply wanted to check up on her and see if she was feeling any better—what a nasty flu she seemed to have caught. But what could you expect? After running around in the rain and cold, in only a skirt and bare feet, of _course _she was sick. Jeremie wondered exactly how she had fun doing _that. _

If she were to be feeling better, he'd take the pleasure of escorting her down to breakfast and sharing his croissant with hers, per usual. Recovering from an illness was an excuse he would accept in sharing his own food. She did need the nutrients, after all. But even that along with her sudden cold were not the only reasons leading him towards her room so early that morning. He also had the strange sensation that something may be wrong. Something more than her cough and her fever. See, nightmares were not a rare occurrence for Aelita—everyone in the group knew that. Jeremie had become accustomed to letting her stay the night and rest in his arms, anything to keep her mind at ease. More importantly, however, was the fact that Jeremie knew exactly when to expect her. It wasn't a feeling he could explain, but usually his stomach would turn and he'd suddenly be struck with uneasiness. Shortly after, she'd come waltzing along, face still wet with tears.

Perhaps it was internal radar for Aelita's emotional state. The thing was that last night, he had been overwhelmed with that _very _feeling. A minor tingling in his gut, the impatience of just _waiting _for that knock on the door.

But said knock never came.

So he trailed over to her door, praying that he hadn't accidentally ignored it, that the sound hadn't flown right over his head. Or even worse—that Laura hadn't been lying when she swore she didn't hear anyone at the door.

He tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting for her to open—or for her to groan from the other side that it was alright for him to come in. But there was no response, no shuffling of feet or rustling of bed covers. Complete silence. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for any _slight _sound, but all he heard was the soft humming of her heater and perhaps that was what was blocking out her presence. She was usually a quiet sleeper—when she wasn't having a bad dream, specifically.

Looking twice down both ends of the hallway, the blonde, now slightly perplexed, helped himself inside of her room and grew surprised upon realizing that she had left it unlocked. So did that mean that she had left only for a brief moment? Maybe she was already at breakfast, or perhaps she was just in the showers or using the restroom. Was the cafeteria even open yet? It was strange, that she would be getting ready for her day _this _early. The sun hadn't even _begun _to rise—Aelita's _normal_ waking time was at _six_. He pursed his lips and folded his arms, trying to figure out where it was she could be.

But the reality was that Jeremie was on the wrong floor. Aelita was just above, on the _boy's _floor—the same floor she'd been on last night after a failed attempt at confiding in Jeremie. Odd had offered for her to come inside, for them to chat and for her to tell about whatever it was on her mind because _clearly _she had _something_ to say, and the boy bit his tongue at the idea that Jeremie didn't want to listen to her. Or more likely, couldn't make the _time _to listen to her. And who was he, to turn down a friend in need? Especially Aelita—sensitive as she was.

Aelita didn't take a second to think about her decision. She was alone, on the edge of an anxiety attack and _just _needed someone to talk to. And when she had ended up falling asleep in the process—well, he wasn't going to take the effort to carry her all the way downstairs. And more importantly, he didn't want to disturb her, not with as peaceful as she looked. And… _more _importantly, he wasn't going to risk Jim catching him carrying a seemingly unconscious girl across the boy's floor so late at night. All three things were very bad, and Odd had made the most logical decision. She'd fallen asleep at the foot of his own bed, probably wore herself out just from as much chattering as she did with as weak as her body clearly was. That cold, whatever it was, seemed to be pretty heavy, and Odd couldn't deny that she needed rest. At the same time, not wanting her to be uncomfortable, he made himself a spot on the floor, hoping Ulrich wouldn't mind that she was staying the night.

Although, if at any time she wanted to leave—she could.

Admittedly…A tiny part of him hoped that she wouldn't.

Ulrich came home about an hour later. Turns out he'd been at a midnight movie showing with Yumi and William. He stared at the slumbering lump on the floor—nearly tripped on it, and whispered Odd's name in an attempt to ask why the girl was sleeping in their dorm.

But it wasn't Odd who answered, the scrawny boy had long been fast asleep and Ulrich could barely hear his own mumbles over the droning sound of his snores. It was Aelita, muttering beneath the covers that she'd fallen asleep on accident, and supposedly Odd had let her stay and set himself up some temporary quarters by the bedside. Ulrich raised an eyebrow—he asked why she was there in the first place so late. But Aelita, she merely frowned, and the brunette knew not to push any further because _obviously_ she wasn't having a good night. And if she was in _his_ room and not Jeremie's—well, he knew she must _really _not be having a good night.

He smiled at her and wished her sweet dreams, but none came to the girl for the rest of the dark hours. Not with Odd's horrible snores and mumbles. God, he was _such_ an aggressively_ loud_ sleeper. No matter how many times she tossed and turned, covered her ears or hid under her pillow, nothing helped mute the sounds. She pitied Ulrich and wondered just _how_ he put up with this _every single _night.

She lied there the entire night, blinking at the ceiling. She didn't want to just get up and leave—she'd risk waking both boys up, and she also didn't want to risk the slight chance that she may offend Odd by leaving so soon. Not that he'd be offended—he surely wouldn't, right? But still, she _also _didn't want to risk getting caught this late. And above all things, she just didn't feel like getting up. The hallway was freezing, and here in this room, under this heavy comforter, it was the perfect temperature.

So she waited as long as she could, until she heard the first few tweets of early morning birds and wasted not one second springing upwards. This meant that it was time to awaken anyways—for her, at least. Maybe Ulrich and Odd would sleep in longer, and if they wanted to that was okay. But Aelita was getting the hell out of there.

Taking her precious time, she slid away from the mass of pillows beneath her and tip-toed over to the door, another quick glance at the unconscious men sprawled across the bed and floor in front of her. Trying not to wake either—although, she was sure that they were _both _rather heavy sleepers, she slid through the small opening she'd made and quickly clicked the door shut behind her.

She paused, back facing the door but ears listening intently. Surely enough, she could still hear the vibrations of Odd's snores.

_Success. _

But almost immediately, she found herself shivering and her lungs twitching once more, signaling a cough fit was making its way towards her. Not wanting to awaken the _entire _floor—and more importantly, the _boy's _floor—she started scampering towards the staircase, trying to get back to her own room as quickly as possible.

She was expecting to slip inside before Jim could start his seven a.m. patrol and grab her shampoo, head straight to the shower and soak up the steam before the other girls started crowding inside. So, naturally, her heart dropped when she saw Jeremie standing at her door, just ready to walk away. And he was equally surprised.

"Aelita?" he immediately called out—before dropping his voice, realizing that everyone else was still asleep and he, too, was on a floor he shouldn't be.

"Jeremie?" Aelita whispered in return, her brow furrowing at the startling sight. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "I was just going to say good morning. You know…like I usually do."

"Right," she nodded along. Of course. He stopped by every morning—just…not this early. "You don't usually come _this_ early, though."

"Taking precaution, I guess."

"Precaution for _what?_"

"I just wanted to see if you'd gotten any better."

"I feel fine, thank you." She flashed a small smile; an attempt to show gratitude although admittedly, she was a little annoyed—mostly just because she wanted to hurry and shower, not have a conversation.

Jeremie pressed his lips into a firm line, taking quick glances at her from head to toe. "So…where were you?"

"I…" she trailed off. This was why she wasn't exactly _happy _to see him—because depending on how long he'd been perched outside her door, he would have grown suspicious at _one_ point or another. After all, under the surface Jeremie was the most impatient one of the group. "How long have you been standing there?"

"A minute or two. I figured you were in the shower and I wasn't gonna stand here for half an hour," he smiled.

She smirked back. "Of course, yeah. Well…that's where I was."

A blatant lie. He frowned. "Your hair isn't wet."

_Nice one. _"Ah…"

Now Jeremie was growing _more _confused—if she'd been in the bathroom, shower, breakfast, whatever, why would she feel the need to _lie _about it? It meant she felt she couldn't tell him, whatever it was. Whether or not it was about why she wasn't in her room, Jeremie was quickly confirming his own belief that _something_ bothersome was on her mind; that something was not well with her.

"Aelita…" he let his arms fall to his sides. "You know you never have to lie to me. I'm all ears, remember?"

She mocked him inside her head—some _bullshit_ that was. Not with Laura hanging on his arm all of the time.

"I just want to grab my things and go shower, if you don't mind," she replied, a snarky tone. It startled the tired blonde standing in front of her.

"Hey," he whispered, lightly taking hold of her wrist as she tried to turn inside her room. "What's the matter, Aelita?"

"Nothing," she pulled away.

"I don't believe you."

"I don't believe half the things you say, but you don't hear me whining."

"Okay, _what _has gotten into you?"

"_Nothing. _I'm sick, I want a hot shower to help with my sinuses, _that's all._"

She wandered into her room and Jeremie remained leaning against the door frame. He was conflicted. He wanted to follow her inside her room and push the conversation further, figure out whatever it was that was causing her to pull such a harsh attitude all of the sudden. At the same time, though, he didn't want to completely piss her off, or force her to say anything she didn't want to.

It's just…well, Aelita didn't act like that. Not unless she was hiding something—because she wasn't good at bottling up her feelings, no matter how hard she tried. They'd find a way out one way or another, and Jeremie had to make sure he prevented that from happening. He assumed it was because she had _definitely _had some sort of traumatizing dream and wasn't telling. Instead, she was letting it eat at her.

"You had a bad dream last night, didn't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

She didn't respond, merely kept her eyes fixed on the vanity before her while searching for her conditioner. She'd seemed to have misplaced it.

"'_Lita_," he egged on.

"I don't understand," she looked up at him. "I always keep it right next to my shampoo."

He groaned, "Aelita."

"Where could it be?"

"Why won't you talk to me?"

Aelita ceased her search and sighed, turning towards her window. "Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"_Yes_, I had a bad dream. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were too busy with Laura."

Jeremie straightened his posture, his heart sinking. So that had been it, then—she'd obviously come by his room and instead found out he was working with Laura. Aelita wasn't the best at handling jealousy.

But nonetheless, there was _no _reason she should _ever _feel that Jeremie would turn her away for _Laura. _

"I wasn't _too busy. _Aelita, you know that you can _always _come to me when you need me."

"It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because Odd was there instead," she snapped.

"…What?"

_And here it comes, _she moaned inside her head. _All _she wanted to do was take a _simple _shower. As of late, she couldn't even do miniscule things like _that. _It was getting irritating.

"I went to Odd's room instead," she added, giving Jeremie eye-contact at last. "Is that a problem? He was there, you weren't."

"What do you mean _he was there?_"

Aelita grumbled—she hated feeling like she was being interrogated, she _hated _when Jeremie tried to act like her damned father. "It means what it sounds like. I went to you room, you were busy with Laura. When I went to head back to my room, I ran into Odd. He invited me inside. We talked, it was fine. I'm fine now."

"What do you mean he invited you _inside_? So that's where you were—you _spent _the _night?_"

"I didn't do it on purpose. I just kind of…fell asleep. Why do you care?"

He cleared his throat, glancing somewhere to the side. "I—I don't."

"Yes you do. Are you mad?"

"Of course not."

"You're lying."

"Yeah, you lied about where you were, so I don't see why it matters."

"_I _don't see why it matters that I spent the night with Odd! What's the matter—are you _jealous_?"

"Of course not! The only one who is jealous here is _you!_"

"_Me?_"

"Yes! You flip out _every _time you see me around Laura! _All _we're trying to do is help _you _find your mother!"

"I don't care if you hang out with Laura—when it's just to work on Lyoko then it's _fine, _but I'm curious to know why you're so _friendly _with her all of a sudden. You've _never _told me about _your _mother!"

Jeremie blinked at her and shook his head. "Okay…_what_ the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Nothing," she shook her head along with him, turned to continue searching for her conditioner. He paused for a moment, pondering exactly what she'd just said. And the realization—well, it offended him.

"You were _eavesdropping?"_

Aelita stopped searching—again. She didn't answer.

"Nice to know I get privacy," he mocked.

She rolled her eyes, clutching the bottle of shampoo. "I guess I don't get to use conditioner today."

"What, I'm not allowed to be friends with Laura?"

She frowned. All the yelling—she'd overexerted herself. She could feel her chest tightening, not with anxiety—but some reason, it was just becoming difficult to breathe. "I didn't say that," she lowered her voice.

"Why do you hate her so much?"

"I don't."

"Of _course _you don't."

"I just want to shower, Jeremie."

He exhaled, blowing at a tuft of hair dangling in his eyes. "Fine."

Without saying a word, Aelita shoved past him and marched down the hall. He rested a palm against his forehead, rolling his eyes. "See you at breakfast," he muttered under his breath.


End file.
